Chapter Fourteen
April 29th, 1945
Minerva and Albus were enjoying afternoon tea together and discussing the Sunday edition of The Daily Prophet when a delivery owl flew into the office through the open office window. Dumbledore put his tea cup aside as he recognized Thibault's owl from France. The bird had flown many miles to deliver the note attached to its leg. It lighted upon the armrest of Dumbledore's chair and waited patiently as he removed the scrap of parchment from its leg.
"To the owlery with you. See that you're fed and rested before you return." the professor told the owl as he unrolled the message.
"What is it, Albus?" questioned Minerva curiously.
"Just a letter from a friend." he said quietly as he read it.
She raised her eyebrows and asked, "From the continent?"
"Yes." he said, putting the note next to his tea cup. "But it is nothing to be concerned about. They have merely missed me over there these past few weeks."
"You are such a terrible liar." she thought, sipping her tea and eyeing the piece of parchment.
Minerva could practically hear the gears turning as he left his seat to pour himself another cup. He was pondering something very serious. She could see it in his eyes as he tried to look casual. It was amusing actually. Or it would be if it didn't make her so very nervous.
An errant spring breeze through the open window unfolded the note for her. She squinted and read a few words from the paper:
"... has been found ... unfortunately the ... muggles is still heavy. We are ... until we can strike. You must come soon or not at all, mon ami. Thibault."
As Albus returned with his tea, Minerva tried to look innocent and unconcerned. Apparently, Grindelwald's lair had been located, but the muggle war was preventing them from acting decisively. Thibault wanted Albus to return and help them and soon. She had read enough for it to worry her tremendously. Would her mentor refuse his friend? She did not think so.
"Albus, if you wanted, you could have four willing witches and wizards to go with you ..."
"Minerva ..." he said warningly.
"I know."
"You think I am going back?" he said, glancing at the unfolded note and frowning at her as he looked over his glasses. He had wanted her opinion, but dared not ask for it. Minerva would never cause a scene, but the argument was inevitable.
"It was the wind." she said quietly.
"Possibly." he agreed. "You must understand, Minerva, that I cannot ask you to come and I certainly cannot accept any offer that you or your young friends may make. It would be unethical for me to involve my charges in this war."
"Wars, wizard and muggle, have always been fought by the young." she said defiantly.
"And the results have too often been disastrous. Perhaps this once our side in this one war can fight the right way, sending only those who are ready into the fray, those who are prepared."
"Can a person truly be prepared for this sort of thing?"
Albus sighed and removed his spectacles. Minerva had never seen him without them. His unobscured gaze was impossibly penetrating. She could not even look him in the eye.
"Minerva, you are so intelligent, so strong-willed. And I think that you might be correct. But I don't want to argue with you now. Not now."
She felt suddenly cold. There was finality in his voice. Almost as though he would never speak to her again and wanted to remember her in a certain way. Albus wasn't concerned that he would lose his job; he was concerned that he would lose his life and start that next great adventure having exchanged words of an antagonistic nature with his young friend. Minerva blinked back the sudden tears and stole a glance at him as he replaced the spectacles.
"All right, Albus." she managed.
"Thank you, Minerva." he said, leaning toward her patting her hand gently.
"Just promise me something." she said before she could stop herself.
"I'm listening."
"Promise me that you will ..." and here she hesitated. She wanted him to promise to come back alive. But Minerva realized that she could not ask him to promise her that. It seemed entirely possible that he would not be able to keep it. "Not leave without saying good-bye."
Albus Dumbledore regarded her strangely for a moment, hearing the promises asked and unasked as she looked at him.
"And if I say it now? Would that suffice, my dear?"
"Then you mean to leave soon?"
"I do." he said, rising from his seat and looking toward the slowly westerning sun.
"Tonight?"
"No, I have ... another matter to which I wish to attend. Perhaps just before dawn." he said softly.
Dumbledore frowned at what he saw in her eyes, but chose not to acknowledge it. She looked as though she was plotting something.
"Very well." she said. "I suppose this will be good-bye ... for now."
He smiled at her and stepped toward the window, looking out upon the castle grounds and the forest. Minerva stood behind him and pursed her lips as she waited for him to say something, but eventually losing herself in thought as remained silent and contemplative, until at last she felt a warm hand upon her shoulder.
"Don't look so sad, my dear. There is always a chance that we will beat him." he said. "I am a better wizard than you think." he added, his eyes twinkling as he spoke.
Minerva looked up at him with an incredulous expression upon her face and said, "But I've always thought of you as the best wizard I have ever known! How can you say that?"
He chuckled and said, "I don't show off my powers as much as my contemporaries. I thought perhaps you did not know. Not that I like to brag ..."
"Of course not." Minerva laughed, and she was amazed that she could still laugh.
"It is time for you to meet Miss Weasley and Mister Vector, is it not?" he questioned suddenly.
"I imagine so. They insisted we keep up the study group, you know. Vector is getting good marks for the first time in his life, and he wants to keep them." she chuckled.
"Then this is good-bye, Minerva, and good luck with all you set about to achieve." he told her, holding out his arms to her.
She embraced him warmly and said, "Thank you for everything, Albus."
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A/N: My two words of French may be wrong. My mother tried to force me to learn French as a child (and we all know how well that must have worked out - not well at all).
MK: Yeah, I think it would hurt quite a bit. I generally like villains too, but not so much the hardcore villains like Voldemort though (but I like Lucius Malfoy a lot *blushes*). Thanks for reviewing!
Deidre: Thank you for the review!
Child-of-the-Dawn: That happens to me all the time. I have to re-read stuff a lot. Thanks for reviewing!
Serenity Raye: I have to admit that I have seen someone write Dippet as a good headmaster (*cough* Freelancer *cough*), but I never got a really good impression of him from the brief bit in CoS. (I thought he was patronizing.) The thing about Dumbledore's nose goes back to the first chapter of PS/SS (and the fact that I can never see the forest for the trees): "his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice." Of course there are naturally occurring crooked noses, but still, it gives one pause. I'm glad you liked that part. Thank you for reviewing!
Freelancer: Thank you for the review!
April 29th, 1945
Minerva and Albus were enjoying afternoon tea together and discussing the Sunday edition of The Daily Prophet when a delivery owl flew into the office through the open office window. Dumbledore put his tea cup aside as he recognized Thibault's owl from France. The bird had flown many miles to deliver the note attached to its leg. It lighted upon the armrest of Dumbledore's chair and waited patiently as he removed the scrap of parchment from its leg.
"To the owlery with you. See that you're fed and rested before you return." the professor told the owl as he unrolled the message.
"What is it, Albus?" questioned Minerva curiously.
"Just a letter from a friend." he said quietly as he read it.
She raised her eyebrows and asked, "From the continent?"
"Yes." he said, putting the note next to his tea cup. "But it is nothing to be concerned about. They have merely missed me over there these past few weeks."
"You are such a terrible liar." she thought, sipping her tea and eyeing the piece of parchment.
Minerva could practically hear the gears turning as he left his seat to pour himself another cup. He was pondering something very serious. She could see it in his eyes as he tried to look casual. It was amusing actually. Or it would be if it didn't make her so very nervous.
An errant spring breeze through the open window unfolded the note for her. She squinted and read a few words from the paper:
"... has been found ... unfortunately the ... muggles is still heavy. We are ... until we can strike. You must come soon or not at all, mon ami. Thibault."
As Albus returned with his tea, Minerva tried to look innocent and unconcerned. Apparently, Grindelwald's lair had been located, but the muggle war was preventing them from acting decisively. Thibault wanted Albus to return and help them and soon. She had read enough for it to worry her tremendously. Would her mentor refuse his friend? She did not think so.
"Albus, if you wanted, you could have four willing witches and wizards to go with you ..."
"Minerva ..." he said warningly.
"I know."
"You think I am going back?" he said, glancing at the unfolded note and frowning at her as he looked over his glasses. He had wanted her opinion, but dared not ask for it. Minerva would never cause a scene, but the argument was inevitable.
"It was the wind." she said quietly.
"Possibly." he agreed. "You must understand, Minerva, that I cannot ask you to come and I certainly cannot accept any offer that you or your young friends may make. It would be unethical for me to involve my charges in this war."
"Wars, wizard and muggle, have always been fought by the young." she said defiantly.
"And the results have too often been disastrous. Perhaps this once our side in this one war can fight the right way, sending only those who are ready into the fray, those who are prepared."
"Can a person truly be prepared for this sort of thing?"
Albus sighed and removed his spectacles. Minerva had never seen him without them. His unobscured gaze was impossibly penetrating. She could not even look him in the eye.
"Minerva, you are so intelligent, so strong-willed. And I think that you might be correct. But I don't want to argue with you now. Not now."
She felt suddenly cold. There was finality in his voice. Almost as though he would never speak to her again and wanted to remember her in a certain way. Albus wasn't concerned that he would lose his job; he was concerned that he would lose his life and start that next great adventure having exchanged words of an antagonistic nature with his young friend. Minerva blinked back the sudden tears and stole a glance at him as he replaced the spectacles.
"All right, Albus." she managed.
"Thank you, Minerva." he said, leaning toward her patting her hand gently.
"Just promise me something." she said before she could stop herself.
"I'm listening."
"Promise me that you will ..." and here she hesitated. She wanted him to promise to come back alive. But Minerva realized that she could not ask him to promise her that. It seemed entirely possible that he would not be able to keep it. "Not leave without saying good-bye."
Albus Dumbledore regarded her strangely for a moment, hearing the promises asked and unasked as she looked at him.
"And if I say it now? Would that suffice, my dear?"
"Then you mean to leave soon?"
"I do." he said, rising from his seat and looking toward the slowly westerning sun.
"Tonight?"
"No, I have ... another matter to which I wish to attend. Perhaps just before dawn." he said softly.
Dumbledore frowned at what he saw in her eyes, but chose not to acknowledge it. She looked as though she was plotting something.
"Very well." she said. "I suppose this will be good-bye ... for now."
He smiled at her and stepped toward the window, looking out upon the castle grounds and the forest. Minerva stood behind him and pursed her lips as she waited for him to say something, but eventually losing herself in thought as remained silent and contemplative, until at last she felt a warm hand upon her shoulder.
"Don't look so sad, my dear. There is always a chance that we will beat him." he said. "I am a better wizard than you think." he added, his eyes twinkling as he spoke.
Minerva looked up at him with an incredulous expression upon her face and said, "But I've always thought of you as the best wizard I have ever known! How can you say that?"
He chuckled and said, "I don't show off my powers as much as my contemporaries. I thought perhaps you did not know. Not that I like to brag ..."
"Of course not." Minerva laughed, and she was amazed that she could still laugh.
"It is time for you to meet Miss Weasley and Mister Vector, is it not?" he questioned suddenly.
"I imagine so. They insisted we keep up the study group, you know. Vector is getting good marks for the first time in his life, and he wants to keep them." she chuckled.
"Then this is good-bye, Minerva, and good luck with all you set about to achieve." he told her, holding out his arms to her.
She embraced him warmly and said, "Thank you for everything, Albus."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: My two words of French may be wrong. My mother tried to force me to learn French as a child (and we all know how well that must have worked out - not well at all).
MK: Yeah, I think it would hurt quite a bit. I generally like villains too, but not so much the hardcore villains like Voldemort though (but I like Lucius Malfoy a lot *blushes*). Thanks for reviewing!
Deidre: Thank you for the review!
Child-of-the-Dawn: That happens to me all the time. I have to re-read stuff a lot. Thanks for reviewing!
Serenity Raye: I have to admit that I have seen someone write Dippet as a good headmaster (*cough* Freelancer *cough*), but I never got a really good impression of him from the brief bit in CoS. (I thought he was patronizing.) The thing about Dumbledore's nose goes back to the first chapter of PS/SS (and the fact that I can never see the forest for the trees): "his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice." Of course there are naturally occurring crooked noses, but still, it gives one pause. I'm glad you liked that part. Thank you for reviewing!
Freelancer: Thank you for the review!
